


I Spy

by Hella_Queer



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-13 11:39:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4520499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hella_Queer/pseuds/Hella_Queer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you've been in the business this long, you learn how to multitask. Meaning that if Ryan has time to infiltrate a secret government facility to steal blueprints for nanobots, he has time to seduce the lead scientist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Spy

It was a bitch to find, first of all.

Almost a month in the damn rainforest with only Joel for company would drive any man to insanity. That is, if they weren't insane already.

Be that as it may, even agent Ryan Haywood was nearing the end of his rope.

"I don't understand why you're even here," Ryan says once they've returned to camp after another unsuccessful search.

Joel, already out of his ECO [Environmentally Changing Optical-illusion (Ryan thinks it should be called ECOI but whatever)] suit, regards him with a cheerful smile.

"Because the last time you went on a recon mission by yourself, Monty had to mind-wipe half of a Middle Eastern village."

Ryan scowls, chomping down on a mango so he doesn't have to answer. At least they were in the right spot. Mangos were native to Southeast Asia, not South America. Guess the OFHD had time to chemically engineer fruit trees, too.

Joel sighs and stretches his arms above his head. There's sweat on his brow and he wipes it away with the bottom of his shirt.

"I think Monty might've been wrong on this one," he holds up his hand before Ryan can yell at him again. "I'm not saying they were never here, just that they aren't now. We must've searched this whole place and still nothing."

He shakes his head, his tired eyes watching Ryan's face intently. "I think the best thing for us to do is report back to HQ and start over."

"After all the time we've wasted, now you want to quit?" Ryan stands up, still in his ECO suit. He hardly ever took it off on long missions like this.

Joel rolls his eyes. "Stop being so dramatic. You might not have a life outside of the agency, but I do."

"Yes, because spending Friday nights watching the stock channel in your underwear counts as having a life."

Perhaps _this_ was why they had been denied recon missions as of late.

His good mood stomped to dust, Joel gets up as well and grabs his bag.

"It's getting dark. I'm taking a piss and going to bed. In the morning I'm radioing Barbara and telling her to send the chopper. Feel free to throw a hissy fit until then."

Ryan stands there feeling very much like he's lost the argument. Not that they were arguing of course, because Joel can barely string a whole sentence together without interrupting himself.

Well, Ryan decides, no use in just waiting around. One more sweep of the surrounding area, and then he'll think about calling it quits.

~*~

He almost kills Joel.

Night has fallen; the sky an inky black and the jungle draped in shadows. It's silent sans Ryan's breathing and the rushing water of the falls.

That's right. A waterfall.

The perfect place to hide a secret organization headquarters. They've looked underwater, of course. Combed the beach and swam out as far as they could without getting caught in the current. But no giant boulders or colorful coral holograms revealed themselves.

So they went inland, set up camp, and branched out from there. Still nothing. Once, about two weeks after they arrived, they came across a fallen tree that had been hollowed out. But there was no secret lever or tunnel leading to a computer room or even a safe house.

The waterfall was a source for constant background noise and nothing more. Until now, that is. Which explains the almost murder. How could Joel even think about leaving when they haven't even checked the most obvious hiding spot? So obvious it was easy to overlook. Clever on OFHD's part. However, they didn't account for Ryan's fierce determination and his unwillingness to let Joel call the shots.

Protocol requires him to inform his partner of any findings, but fuck that. He's a trained operative with years of experience. He doesn't need a damn babysitter.

After checking to make sure all of his gear is secure—infrared goggles in place, silenced pistol and grappling hook strapped to his utility belt, other spy gizmos— Ryan steps through the heavy curtain of water.

He ducks just before the red light of the motion sensor can detect his presence. Of course this wasn't meant to be easy. With deft fingers, Ryan pulls out the mini screwdriver from him utility belt and, one by one, removes the screws from the control panel. Once that's out of the way, it's easy to disable the motion sensor and pry open the door.

Darkness surrounds Ryan, the kind where no matter how long you wait, the eyes just won't adjust. Slipping his goggles over his head and switching to the night vision function, Ryan starts forward.

The tunnel of sorts smells of mildew, which makes sense seeing how it's underwater. Several feet down the way is a more official looking metal door with a large Caduceus printed on it.

Ryan curses when he sees the fingerprint scanner. If only Barbara or Kara were here, they could work their makeup magic and dust for the last fingerprint. Looks like he would have to find another way in.

A few paces back from the door, hidden in the shadows, is an air vent. It was very trap-esque, but it was all he had. Taking out the very handy screwdriver once again, Ryan opens the grate and crawls inside. It's a tight fit, but he somehow manages to put the grate back in place before disappearing into the darkened metal shaft.

Just a heads up; being alone in the dark with nothing but your thoughts does some crazy shit to your mind.

_I could be dead, you know._

Ryan shakes his head. Why was it that every time he broke protocol, it was always Joel's voice that reprimanded him?

_Because I'm your partner, jackass. We're suppose to stick together._

**You wanted to leave! We would have missed them entirely if I let you make the decisions.**

_Then you should've come back for me! You could get killed going in alone._

Another voice reaches Ryan's ears—a real one this time—and he stops moving. Not realizing just where he was headed, he's surprised to find himself looking into a brightly lit room through the thin bars of an air vent. He hastily backs up a little when the voice drifts closer.

"Director Burns!"

"What is it, Jenkins?"

"The tripwires on sub-level W were activated."

"What! How long ago?"

"About ten minutes."

Ryan curses under his breath when an alarm sounds and red lights begin to flash. The urge to abort his mission is strong, but the next words he hears strengthen his resolve.

"We have another problem," the female voice—Jenkins—says. "Sector U was sealed off the moment the wires were tripped. Agents Free and Narvaez and still inside, presumedly unaware of our situation."

Director Burns shouts for someone to start evacuating the floor. Ryan begins to crawl again, a new confidence replacing his earlier doubt.

 _Agent Free_ Ryan thinks, a small smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. _Just the man I wanted to see._

~*~

In the hidden depths of Sector U, sealed off from society and the rest of AHQ, Gavin Free tries not to panic.

After nearly two months of no detection, he had gotten comfortable. Unlike the old HQ in Austin, Texas, which had been destroyed just days after he joined the OFHD, he hadn't made duplicates of his current project. Instead he left decoys, some obvious and some that looked so genuine that you wouldn't realize your mistake until it was too late.

The only person Gavin confided in about his plan was Ray, the other desk jockey who only went on low level recon missions. He was a wiz with technology and audio set ups. The two would spend hours just watching the building—or in this case the waterfall dome—watching their co-workers and also tightening up security.

But right now he's without his companion. The emergency doors for the computer room—Base—had slid in place about twenty minutes ago. Iron doors blocked his two possible exits; one led to the upper levels of the AHQ, and the other led to the lounge where Ray was. Since there was an underground passage that led from the lounge to the main floor, Ray had told him via walkie talkie that he planned to figure out what was going on and send help.

Gavin wasn't an idiot, despite what everyone else thought. Emergency doors meant intruders. Intruders meant the BTAN. The BTAN meant that he needed to wipe the hard-drives of ever single computer or risk the corruption of humanity.

And he still had to press The Button.

~*~

Thirty minutes, a hand cramp, and twelve dead computers later, Ray calls in on the walkie talkie.

"Gav? You there?"

Gavin unhooks his walkie from his belt, working one handed now.

"Tell me good news, Ray."

"Jenkins is working on overriding the security system so we can get you out."

Gavin breathes a sigh of relief.

"Thank god. I've only gotten through half the computers and I still need to—"

"There's also some bad news," Ray cuts in, sounded worried. Ray was never worried.

"This place is half empty, and Ward says they haven't found the intruder. Plan G needs to go in affect in thirty minutes."

Something like fear crawls its way into Gavin's throat. He's been working this whole time, and as computer number fifteen shuts down, all thoughts of composer disappear.

"With or without you out of there."

~*~

Ryan thought he was prepared.

He had the gadgets, the physical training, the advantage of surprise. Not to mention a pretty sweet roundhouse kick. He was one of BTAN's top agents, and was ready to strike at a moments notice.

But the sight of a ruffled Brit in a lab coat smashing computers with a sledge hammer is enough to pull him up short.

The noise is a great distraction, though. Ryan slides out of the vent and rolls behind a filing cabinet. He holds his breath when the smashing stops. The silence is broken by the labored breathing of who he assumes to be Gavin Free.

According to his file, Gavin Free had stumbled upon nanobots by accident. An outcast in school, Free spent most of his time dabbling with science; plants, animals, chemicals. The (talented) fool almost killed himself in several explosions, and even managed to chemically engineer fruits in his garage.

But his greatest, and most unintentional discovery, was working nanobots. Not just the kind to hide in places. These, if built correctly, could aid the human body. Pacemakers would become a thing of the past. Dialysis machines would be used for spare parts. The medical industry would be falling at his feet, begging for him to cure cancer and tumors.

Right now, the bots are still in the planning stage, but it wouldn't remain that way forever.

"I really liked these computers, you know. Intruders always ruin my toys."

Ryan's eyes widen; there's no way he could have been detected!

"I know, Gav," a slightly muffled sounding voice responds. "But you'll get even better computers at the new HQ."

Ryan breathes a quiet sigh of relief. He wasn't seen after all.

"Assuming I'm alive to see them. How long?"

"About nineteen minutes," the voice says. "Jenkins says she's close to getting you out."

Footsteps, slow and careful, move towards Ryan's hiding spot. He chances peaking around the corner of the cabinet. Free has his back to him, patting the broken monitor of a computer. Perfect.

Ryan plants his feet and braces a hand against the floor. He springs up, dodges the swing of the sledge hammer. Free kicks out a leg, but he's unbalanced. Ryan grabs the handle and pushes against his chest.

Free stumbles back, and he ends up knocking a busted computer to the ground. Before he can recover Ryan forces him on his back over the table, handle of the hammer at his throat.

"I can see why Burns wanted to keep you hidden," Ryan says, staring into defiant green eyes. "You're much too pretty to be left outside."

"Who are you?" Free chokes out.

"I go by many names." Ryan's high on adrenaline; attractive guy pinned under him, glare never faltering even as he struggles to breathe. "You can call me J."

He expects an attempt to escape. A shout for help or security to come busting down the iron doors and shoot him. He should have known better.

"J like the letter? Or the name Jay?"

Free is barely pushing against the handle of the hammer now. Just enough pressure to keep it from crushing his windpipe completely.

"The letter."

"That's good," Free says. "If it were Jay the name, I would have jumped to conclusions."

This has got to be the most amusing mission he's ever been on.

"What kind of conclusions?"

Free does his best to shrug. "Oh, I dunno. Jay is a nickname for James. James is a good first name. And there so happens to be a James Ryan Haywood in the BTAN who has been tracking us for almost two months. Along with his colleague Joel Pearce Heyman."

Silence.

Ryan's face gives nothing away, nor does his body language. Free stares up at him, a twinkle in his eyes. His jaw muscles twitch ever so slightly, as if he's fighting off a smile. No proper training whatsoever.

"But there's no way you could be him. Right?"

"Right," Ryan answers, fingers tightening on the handle.

Free frowns a little, though if you asked Ryan it came across more as a pout than anything.

"Oh, come on. There's no need to kill me. You've got me in height, weight and hand to hand combat. _And_ you're the one holding the weapon. Think you could let me up?"

Ryan actually snorts. "What kind of idiot do you take me for?"

"Please? I want to show off my lab before you bash my head in."

Ryan shakes his head. He wasn't letting this guy go anywhere. Because he needs the disk. It has nothing to do with the admittedly pleasing sight of Free sprawled helplessly over a table.

"Tell you what; all I want is to pull that level on the far wall. The blue one. There's a pair of handcuffs in the drawer of this table. You can cuff me, then walk me over to the lever."

"How do I know you don't have the key?"

Now it's Free's turn to look amused. "Even if I did, you'll be behind me. You can even hold my arms if you want."

Ryan did want to, actually. For the mission, of course.

Keeping the handle of the sledge hammer pressed against the man's neck, Ryan feels around the table until he comes across a handle. Pulling open the drawer, his fingers come in contact with cool metal.

True to his word, Free doesn't struggle when Ryan cuffs him. He sighs a little, flexes his fingers when he's allowed to stand.

The walk over to the lever takes longer than it needs to. Or at least it feels that way. Neither of them speak.

"So," Ryan says slowly, moving to stand in front of him, "what exactly does this thing do?"

Free grins. "Pull it and find out."

 _You're gonna die_ says the Joel–like voice in his head.

 **Shut up** Ryan thinks as he pulls the lever.

The panels on the wall next to the lever begin to slide up; like a garage door except much more futuristic. Once they've disappeared into the ceiling, what's left is the most surreal image Ryan has ever seen.

Miles of endless ocean stretch out in front of him. Seaweed and coral, rocks stacked like natural statues , fish of every size and color. All this can be seen through the crystal clear glass windows, an ocean documentary just inches from his face.

"We say you exploring down here when you arrived." Free's voice is soft, like a wave washing over Ryan's shoulders. "We can reflect this image in the lab, kind of like a cloaking device."

There's pride in his voice, and he stands up a little straighter.

"I designed it myself."

"Brilliant," Ryan breathes, hands coming to rest on the younger man's shoulders. "Not enough to distract me, but brilliant nonetheless."

Just then, the walkie talkie crackles to life. The mood changes abruptly; Free stiffens when a large hand curls loosely around his throat.

"Gav? Gavin you there?"

In the glass, Ryan can just make out Free's reflection. His eyes are wide, pupils dilated, lips parted.

Interesting.

"Gavin! Dammit man if you fell asleep again.."

Ryan unhooks the walkie from Free's belt and holds it up to his face.

"I'm fine. How much longer? Say it." He holds down the button.

Ryan feels his throat constrict as he swallows and squeezes just for the fun of it.

"I-I'm fine. How much longer?"

"Finally," Ray sighs, "Jenkins says about ten minutes."

"What should I do until then? Say it."

Free shudders, licking his lips. "What uh, what should I do till then?"

Ray yawns. "I dunno, man. Take a nap now that I know you're alive. Rub one out if you want. The fuckin' cameras are down so go nuts."

A smirk slowly works its way on to Ryan's face. Free closes his eyes and mumbles some kind of agreement. Then Ray is gone, and silence once again fills the lab.

"Friend of yours?" Ryan asks after tossing the walkie on to a nearby table.

"Coworker." His answer is clipped, emotionless. Ryan doesn't like that.

"And is this coworker aware of your impressive cloaking device?"

His hand has loosened his grip, and now his thumbs are rubbing circles into the back of Free's neck. The amount of knots present is worthy of Joel when the worth of gold rises.

"He doesn't really notice when I turn it on," Free murmurs, hands flexing in their bind. Eventually he relaxes his shoulders, and unconsciously leans a little towards Ryan.

Ryan hums in disappointment, hands moving to his shoulders. "Sounds to me like you're underappreciated. I'd bet that the rest of your team isn't too happy to have you here. They think you're too inexperienced or incompetent. A child."

Free makes a noise of contempt. "Well this 'incompetent child' has saved their asses on more than one occasion."

He starts tensing up again when Ryan chuckles, but the older man soothes him by adding pressure to his shoulder blades.

"You know who would love things like this? And I'm assuming this is just one of many."

"Who?" Free asks, genuine intrigue in his voice.

"My boss. He's a big tech guy himself. He craves things like this; things you can create."

As a show of trust, Ryan unlocks the cuffs around his wrist. Free winces and tries to shake them out, but Ryan stops him. He starts with the left arm, and kneads the sore muscles as he continues speaking.

"I know it's no fault of your own, but let's face it, the OFHD hasn't done a very good job of hiding themselves. Just how many computers have you had to get rid of in order to keep your information safe?"

It's a rhetorical question, but Free answers with a heavy sigh.

"Too many. Way too many."

Ryan hums and moves to the right arm.

"And how many times has your team found any of our bases? We have a few, just as you do. Or did, rather."

The frown on Free's face says everything he doesn't.

Through the glass, and the clear blue of the ocean, a pale orange-pink light begins to shine through. Sunrise.

Ryan frowns momentarily. His time, both in this lab and away from Joel, is almost up.

Free blinks, having noticed it as well. He starts to pull away from Ryan when a hand once again incases his throat. This time, however, it is less of a threat and more of...something else.

"Think about it," Ryan whispers, lips grazing his ear. "Your very own super computer. Touch screens smooth as glass, pictures so clear it's like you're part of the program."

Free tries to shake his head, his situation coming into perspective. But Ryan can't allow that yet. He's close to cracking, he just needs that extra push.

"Your very own office. I can program your windows to depict any image you desire. London, Paris,Tokyo, Italy."

"Italy?" Free whispers, shudders when Ryan nips his ear.

"Anything and everything you can think of. Your work will be noticed, praised. Talent in your possession deserves to be showcased, not hidden."

Free closes his eyes, body molding to Ryan's when the older man smoothes a hand down his chest.

"And," he continues, voice having dropped an octave, "since I am the senior programmer, you and I would spend a lot of time together."

He tilts Free's head back, lips slowly moving from the shell of his ear to the side of his neck.

"I'm not bothered very often. Especially when I say I'm working on a special project."

"S-special.." Free loses his train of thought when Ryan bites down on the space where neck and shoulder meet.

"I'm very skilled at what I do." His voice is low in Free's ear, encircling him and sending shockwaves down his spine.

"I-I bet," Free stammers, glances at the hand that's now gripping his waist. They aren't talking about computers anymore.

Ryan squeezes, drawing him in even closer. They're pressed together so tightly that even the slightest movements are felt. Free tries hard to stand still, but Ryan rocks his hips, forcing him to do the same.

"What's it gonna be?" Ryan asks, voice steady, confident. The complete opposite of how Free feels.

"I—"

"Gavin?" The damn walkie talkie sputters to life again. "The doors should be opening any minute now. You need to—"

Ryan _growls_ , releasing his almost prize to violently smash the small rectangle of metal against the table.

The distraction is enough to knock some sense into Free, and by the time Ryan looks up he's pressing a big red button on the other side of the room.

"You should go," Free says, just as the metal doors slid open and an alarm starts sounding. This one is different than the one in the main room, a sinking ship instead of a break in. It doesn't take much for him to put two and two together.

Ryan's halfway back to the entrance of the cave when he hears the sound of water filling every space of the underground facility. He crawls faster, cursing himself for not bringing his scuba gear with him.

The roaring grows louder, and Ryan takes a deep breath just as the first trickles of water wash over his legs. He's completely submerged in seconds, being taken by the current further down the vent. The walls are too slick for him to get any friction.

He's going to drown.

Lightheaded and nearly weightless, Ryan tries his hardest to find his way out. He knows he's close to some kind of exit when the current picks up, carrying him down a different path than the one he took.

A sharp drop makes him gasp, and as water fills his lungs, something bright and glowing and _bright_ shines in his eyes.

The sun.

Ryan kicks to the surface of the pond he's in and takes in his surroundings, coughing up a lung. He's back in the jungle, under a different waterfall. From here the sound of helicopter blades can be heard past the ringing in his ears.

Ryan climbs out of the pond, grimacing at his waterlogged equipment. His goggles were probably fried now. Monty was gonna kill him.

He makes his way towards the sound of the helicopter, hastily creating an alibi. A branch breaking behind him is all the warning him gets before a bullet hits the tree he was standing in front of. Coming out of his crouch, Ryan grabs his knife and takes a defensive position.

A familiar face comes into view, covered in sweat and dirt.

Joel.

He stares at Ryan for a few seconds before lunging at him. They topple to the ground, punching and kicking, before Ryan shoves him off

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He hisses.

Joel glares, body stiff and alert as he stands. "Where they fuck have you been?"

"I went for a swim," Ryan says casually. "Why the need for bullets?"

Joel is suddenly on defense, eyes scanning the surrounding area.

"About an hour after I woke up, these OFHD guys started swarming the place. I had enough time to gather our equipment," he gestures to the duffle slung across his back, "but I had to leave the tent. I've been looking for you since then."

Ryan nods and starts moving in the opposite direction of where he was going. They're silent as they step over branches and piles of dry leaves. Now that it's daytime, they stand out; black ECO suits contrasting with the bright colors of the rainforest.

When they can no longer hear the helicopter, they're standing at the top of cliff overlooking a huge rapid.

"Now what, Aquaman?" Joel asks, shoving the equipment bag at Ryan.

 _We're fucked_ he thinks, staring warily at the waters below. Waters that, despite the sun, were growing darker in some places.

Waters that sounded just like one Monty's nearly silent choppers...

A sleek black chopper hovers Up above them; a rescue and a death sentence. The door slides open on one side and blonde hair flutters in the wind.

"You guys are so fucked when we get back to HQ!" Barbara shouts, and throws down a rope ladder.

Joel goes up first, shouts something back at Barbara that Ryan doesn't hear. He's too busy looking at the rapids, wondering if a submarine disguised as a whale is cruising through the ocean, sheltering a special British scientist. He smiles, and climbs up the ladder.

"So," Joel huffs once they're flying through the air, "just where did you go last night?"

Ryan smirks, turning to watch the forest disappear and morph into blue green blue green blue green.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this so long ago I completely forgot what the acronyms mean. Sorry!


End file.
